


The Last Two Rats

by oldmoviebuff



Category: Skyfall (2012) - Fandom
Genre: Canonical Character Death, Comfort/Angst, First Time, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-06-14
Updated: 2013-06-14
Packaged: 2017-12-15 00:14:48
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Major Character Death
Chapters: 4
Words: 5,512
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/843094
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/oldmoviebuff/pseuds/oldmoviebuff
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Basically a what if scenario. The "what if" being, M got shot in the Courthouse and died there and the decision Bind would have to make. (spoiler alert! She is the character death, no need to worry about your two boys)</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Rats in a Drum

**Author's Note:**

> OK This is my first slash fic and let me say right off, I am a huge fan of slash, as long as it is warranted. And baby you can't look me in the eye and tell me this wasn't. These two were handed to us on a silver platter. But I digress, I tried to make this as "in character" as possible and I think I succeeded, at least in the first two chapters, thheeen we hit the glorious angsty smut. Anyway, I hope you all enjoy. I do not own these two and mistakes are my own, but I read through the story at least 4 times to try and catch what mistakes I could. Read and Review ((brought over from fanfic.net))

Chapter 1- Rats in a Drum

The decision was made in an instant. It was one of those times where a choice had to be made that would change everything. Silva had burst into the Hearing guns a-blowing and Bond had chased him to the Courthouse on foot. By the time he came in the side door, the whole situation was already too far out of hand. Then it happened.  
With a look mixed curiously of pain and glee, Silva pointed his gun towards M and took the shot. Mallory did his best to step in front of the bullet but in the end, it reached its target. In a flash, M was on the ground and every thing froze. This was it. Bond made eye contact with Mallory who had made his way to the doorway parallel to him and nodded. James shot the fire extinguisher nearest him, then the one on the wall opposite him. The room was almost instantly covered in smoke reducing visibility to almost zero and there was a choice to be made. James could either chase Silva down and take him out, or get him out of there under the cover of the extinguisher discharge. He didn’t have long to think as the smoke would soon dissipate and he wouldn’t be able to do either. In the end, it only took him a moment to make his choice.  
Bond held his gun steady in front of him as he made his way over to where he had seen Silva last. In the mist he found the Spanish blond wildly flailing about trying to recuperate his men and adapt to his new surroundings. He came up behind the cyber terrorist and threw him into a chokehold with his gun pressed to his forehead.  
“Go ahead,” Silva managed to choke out, “Take the shot and finish this.”  
“Not today.”  
Silva, who had gone still in the 007’s hold, glanced in his direction but said nothing. When Bond began to move out the door at a quick pace with Silva still locked in his grip, he did not struggle.  
It was relatively easy to slip out of the courthouse in the midst of all the confusion, especially for a spy and a cop. Bond made sure Silva kept his head down to avoid any easy identification on security cameras.  
“My men have a car waiting across the street.” Silva said plainly as Bond walked at his side with the gun still pointed at him.  
“Are any of them important?” He asked curtly as they approached the police car.  
“Not anymore.” Silva answered in the same flat tone.  
No sooner had Silva spoke, then Bond brought up his gun and took out the two bodyguards surrounding Silva’s getaway vehicle. Without being told, Silva silently climbed in the passenger seat as Bond started the car and drove off.  
Bond did a few turn arounds to make sure that no one was following them before he started to head towards his private storage unit. Before he got too close to his stop point, he broke the threatening silence in the car.  
“You understand that I can’t have you see where we are going right?” he asked without taking his eyes off the road.  
“Yes.” Silva responded also not taking his eyes off the road.  
“Do you trust me?”  
“No.”  
“Understood.” James reached over and struck Silva on the head with the butt of his gun.  
It had been a real hassle lugging Silva’s unconscious body into his small Aston Martin, but he couldn’t risk him sending out a message to any of his henchmen. The whole escape and getaway had taken less than two minutes and Lord knows he didn’t have time to completely search Silva’s person aside from disarming him. If they were going to have even the slightest chance of getting away, they needed to fall off the map and fast before MI6 caught wise. With how smoothly they got away and Her Majesty and the rest of the government trying to cover up the disaster that just occurred, James figured that they had at least a solid day before the dogs were unleashed.  
As they were leaving the city Bond had time to ponder the ramifications of what he had just done. M was dead and he was aiding and abetting the murderer, or kidnapping him, either argument could be made. He hadn’t even completely formulated a plan of action. He just knew that Silva couldn’t be left to the authorities. For some reason, the thought sickened him. Even though Bond knew turning him in was the right thing to do, he felt some odd sense of duty to his fellow spy. Ex-spy. But then again, they were both ex-spies now. Even if he ended up marching Silva out into a field and shooting him in the head, it would be better than what the higher ups had in store for him, especially since he had succeeded in his plan. They were well outside of London by the time Silva came to.  
“May I ask where we are going?”  
“You may, but you know I cannot tell you.”  
“I know, I was just trying to make conversation.”  
“Fair enough.”  
Silence returned to the car as it got darker and darker outside.  
“What are you going to do with me?”  
“Not sure yet.”  
“Can I ask why?”  
“Ask me when we get to where we are going.”  
Neither of them looked at each other, raised their voices, or even spoke for that matter. Bond filled up on petrol several times during the night. Each time he stopped he was more and more assured that Silva wasn’t going to run or try anything funny. Every time he got out of the car, Silva just stayed in his seat, facing forward and not saying a word. Bond was more than suspicious that Silva had not planned to live past his altercation with M. That was why he did it in such a public and protected setting, he was counting on being taken down, and as long as he shot M first, he didn’t care.  
Sometime around four in the morning Silva spoke again.  
“Aren’t you getting tired James?” He didn’t like it when Silva used his first name, far too familiar for his comfort.  
“I can sleep later.”  
“Or we could switch and I could drive for a while. I’m sure you want to rest those tired eyes.”  
“Not a chance.” Bond felt a little twinge of something positive in his stomach. The man was starting to act like his old self. He stole a glance at the Spaniard to see if his face matched his remark. Silva was holding his head up with his hand and was staring out the window. ‘Ah well, ‘ James thought, ’baby steps.’  
Sometime after the sun came up, James pulled over at the front entrance to a rather barren looking estate. James was leaning against the front of the Aston staring down the road leading to his family home. Silva got out of the car and stood a few feet in front of him, also looking down towards the lone, gloomy house.  
“This is it isn’t it?” Silva said. “The place on your file?”  
“It’s on my file?” Bond turned to get back in the car and Silva followed.  
“Will we be much longer? I would very much like to freshen up.” Silva said flatly as James steered the car back towards the main road. He was hoping that they would have braked there. Nothing would have intrigued him more than to have a chance to wander around dear Mr. Bond’s old home.  
“We couldn’t have stopped there. Too risky. Especially if anyone can access my file.” James said pointedly, turning to look at him directly. Silva didn’t return the look but let out a small chuckle.  
It was around lunch by the time Bond deemed it worthy to stop. They had come to a small port town in the Northeastern part of Scotland. He wasn’t desperate for sleep but he knew that he would have to be on his top game for the next few days if he wanted to get away with this. Even though he was still not entirely sure what it was yet.  
“I’m sure you have some hidden account you can draw money from, correct?” Bond asked as he parked the car outside of a pub.  
“Of course. But why dear Mr. Bond?” Silva had long since leaned back in his seat in an attempt to rest, he answered without stirring or even opening his eyes.  
“I am going to need some untraceable funds to hire a boat.”  
“A boat you say? Now why would you need a boat?”  
“We need a boat. Now about those funds?”  
Silva pulled a card from a pocket and handed it to him. “The PIN is 754302, and please, while you are out, make some sleeping arrangements. This ‘car’ is far too small to be comfortable in.”  
“Quite like an oil drum.” Bond said with a smirk as he got out of the car and shut the door. “Back in 5.” Bond turned and locked the door as he made his way into the pub. He had the Martin supped up long ago, no one was getting in or out without his thumb on the key fob.  
An hour later found Bond and Silva pulling up to an abandoned hunting lodge in the mountains outside of the town.  
“It’s a decommissioned safe house, and no one knows of its existence except for me. I took pains to remove it from the MI6 database a few years back.”  
“What a naughty boy James, all this lashing out. Did you do it to displease Mother?” Silva paused and looked to his feet. Bond caught the momentary flash of pain on Silva’s face before it resumed its blank look.  
“Don’t’ push it. Let’s just get inside.”


	2. The Last Two Rats

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Into the safe house, were all is secure

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> R&R

Chapter 2-The Last Two Rats

The safe house was much more on the inside than its outside would have the passerby believe. The kitchen was fully stocked with canned goods and dried foods. There were several changes of clothes, the normal cache of passports and papers, and a full arsenal in the sub-basement. The only thing James hadn’t counted on was the sleeping arrangement. To be more specific, when he fashioned the safe house for his use, he never expected there to be anyone there but him….annd a possible female companion. Either way, he never saw the use for more than one bed, or even a large one for that matter. That was an issue James decided to handle later. Right now he needed to come up with a long-term plan.  
After doing a quick run through of the safe house, James returned to what could be considered the front sitting area to find Silva seated on the couch staring off into space.  
“Do you want to sleep?”  
“I slept a little in the car.” James grabbed a chair from the adjourning kitchenette and sat it in front of Silva. It was time for a conversation with the man and he needed to look him in the eye.  
“If I get you on a computer, can I trust you to make some arrangements?”  
“Oh, I don’t know if I am in a position to make myself trustworthy to you my dear brother in arms. I may, however, be a little more open to the idea if you would care to trust me with answers to some questions I have.”  
“Ask your questions.”  
“Why am I here and not in custody?”  
“If you had lived to be taken into custody, you would not have gone back to that clean little cell you were contained in at MI6. There are closed doors in our government reserved specifically for people who have done what you just did, as you well know.”  
“Yes, si, I understand that but that tells me what would have happened if you had left me there, not why you took me from it.”  
James thought hard about his answer; he was at a loss at what to say, so he settled on the truth.  
“I guess I couldn’t let them take you. It is all black and white with them. The books and nothing else. They don’t understand us….. They don’t understand what we do. They think they do, with their tests and their doctors, but they don’t.”  
At this, Silva broke his gaze with eternity and focused his eyes on James for the first time.  
“You understand?” Silva asked the question in complete honesty. When he talked to James on the island, he had taken him for a smart puppet willing to do anything for Queen and Country.  
“I suppose I do.” James sat back in his chair and crossed his legs. Yes, what Silva did was unforgivable. But he could also see why he did it. This blond Spaniard had been the pillar of MI6 before he was broken in a Chinese torture chamber. This job could get the best of anyone if they weren’t on constant guard.   
“What if I told you I didn’t want to be rescued? You should have left me there. I should have died with her!” Silva stated getting progressively louder to the point where he was almost shouting. James was a bit taken aback, this was the first he had seen Silva actually loose his temper. Silva, after his outburst, leaned back in the couch and released a small, half insane laugh.  
“You should have known I didn’t want to live. Why not just let me die? We both know that I wouldn’t have made it to custody with air in my lungs.”  
“Because you didn’t deserve to die. It…it’s not fair.” James kept his voice steady and free of emotion.  
“Why James, I didn’t know you felt such concern.” Silva met his gaze, a sad look in his eyes, before looking down to his interlocked hands.  
“Call it, one double-0 looking out for another.” James got up from his chair and stood above Silva, about to leave.  
“Ah, but neither of us are double-0s anymore my dear James.”  
“You are right on that account Tiago.” Silva’s eyes shot up at the mention of the name he had not heard in years. The name M refused to call him, the name lost to the files of MI6.   
“Sh-she told you…about me.”  
“Yes.” Silva stood up, with tears in his eyes. He looked as though he was on the verge of a break down.  
“What did she tell you?” He didn’t even try to keep his voice from trembling.   
“Enough.” Without thinking, James stepped closer to Silva, gently held his face, and kissed him. Normally Silva would have responded but at the moment, he was quite at a loss. So he just let James continue with his soft, calm kiss.   
When Silva didn’t react, James pulled back and gave him a mildly annoyed look. Silva responded with the same look of frozen shock. James decided to try again, with a touch more force.   
He gently pushed Silva back down to the couch. He got down on his knees before him, wrapped his hands around his head and brought him in for a slightly more passionate kiss. This time Silva responded by opening his mouth and allowing the newly disgraced spy entrance. After a little hesitation he brought his arms around James and pulled him closer. James ran his fingers through Silva’s thick, dyed hair as he explored his mouth, occasionally feeling the prosthetic upper jaw. When they finally stopped for air, Silva fell back against the couch, panting.  
“I am terribly sorry, Mr. Bond, but I don’t think I can match your energy at the moment.” He smiled as he caught his breath. “And I was certain you were bluffing on the island…”  
“I was.” James said quietly as he rose to his feet and extended his hand. “Come on, we both need sleep.”  
Silva took his hand and followed him to the bedroom where James sat him down and began undressing him. Although James was usually quick and efficient with his conquests’ clothes, he made sure he was slow and steady now. Silva was in a fragile state and James wanted to make sure that he did nothing to push him. After they were both stripped of their clothes, James sat down on the bed next to Silva. This all seemed a little absurd to him, even as he was gently caressing the Spaniard’s myriad of scars and tissue damage. He was telling the truth before, about his bluff on the island. It had been a bluff. So why did he not seem to have any pretense now about him holding and physically/mentally soothing another man? James decided that it was probably more because this wasn’t about sex, this was about camaraderie, and surviving in a world that hadn’t the slightest inkling about the waters MI6 agents swam in on a daily basis. James could connect to this man, as what he said on the island was true, they were both survivors, the only ones of their kind. Yes, there were other agents, there always would be, but James was not of this new era. This was a different age from the one he was used to, the one he was trained for. He was a relic of the old ways, and so was M. Now that she was gone, there was really just Silva and him.   
Through his ruminations, James did not realize that Silva, or rather Tiago, had nuzzled himself into James arms and was quietly humming to himself.   
“Come on, let’s get you into bed.” James spoke almost as if he was speaking to a child, which, in all reality, was probably not all that far from the truth at this point in exhaustion and mental anguish.   
James rose from the edge of the bed where he and Tiago had been sitting, pulled back the covers, and climbed in. Tiago, almost catatonic, climbed in after him and brought himself into James’ open arms. James fell asleep stroking Tiago’s hair, while Tiago fell asleep against the warmth of James’ chest.


	3. Rats on an Island

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Smutty Smut Smut Smut

Chapter 3- Rats on an Island

Silva woke the next morning, quite refreshed and a little surprised at his bedfellow. He could not immediately recall what happened the night before that led to James Bond and him asleep, naked, and in each other’s arms. Slowly though, piece by piece, it did come back to him. He smiled to himself as he strained to recall if anything naughty happened, but sighed when he could not.   
He turned in the bed to get a better look at the sleeping James. He looked tired, not in the sleep sense, but in the livelihood sense. It was obvious that the years he gave to MI6 had taken a toll. By all accounts in the real world, he was still a young man. Underneath the lines of action and espionage, Silva could make out the man within. The one who had traded his good name and loyalty to his country to help him, the killer of M. Silva was still reeling a bit, the panic and despair he had felt the night before was starting to return as well. He had no idea what to do now. He had no intention of making it out alive, even if he had convinced James to join him on the island, he knew damn well what his if not both of their fates would be. It was all part of the plan, but James rescuing him? He didn’t plan for that, and he was a man who lived by plans. He knew his mind was not all on the same level; at least he was still sane enough to grasp that, so he depended on his plans. They were something solid that he could hold on to when things got fuzzy. Now, he had no plan. He didn’t have the first idea about what to do next.  
\-------0000000000------  
James woke to find Silva in the bathroom, still naked, and staring at himself in the mirror. As he approached the Spaniard, he noticed his prosthetic jaw resting on the sink. Silva didn’t have much of an expression on his face, not that he could with half of his jawbone missing. But James could see his troubles written in his eyes. This sort of thing was probably a ritual for the broken man. A daily reminder of all that he gave for his adopted country, thrown right back at him. The man was lost now, and all he had was his old habits.  
Silva almost jumped when he saw James approach in the mirror. He rushed to grab his jaw and re-insert it, but James got to him first. James held Silva’s hand away from his artificial teeth, while struggling to think of something to say.   
“It was rash, what I did back in London. And I didn’t think it through properly. And I’m sorry.”  
“Sorry for what?” Silva said as stiffly as possible, trying not to slur with half of his face gone.  
“Everything. For these…” James graced his fingers along just a few of the scars still painfully visible across his chest. “For the time you lost. For everything else that happened.” James specifically avoided mentioning his face, but still brought his free hand up to touch it. Silva shied away from the contact, freed his wrist from James’ grip, and went back into the bedroom.   
“What about not letting me die with Mother, are you sorry about that?” Silva said, anger tinting his mangled words.  
James followed him into the bedroom and squatted down before the man, now seated on the end of the bed.  
“No.” He leaned up and planted a kiss on the hallowed cheek before Silva could flinch away again. “I told you yesterday. MI6 has taken too much. I guess I decided it was time to cut the umbilical cord and run before they took more.” James knew Silva would understand.  
Silva had flinched at the reference, but retained his outward look of despondence, head hung low and eyes cast down. James held up Silva’s Jaw and let him take it. He watched as the man sluggishly put it back in place and adjust his mouth.   
James placed his hands on Silva’s knees and leaned up to kiss him on the mouth. Once again, Silva did not readily respond. This time, however, it was more that he was lost in his foggy thoughts rather than freezing from shock. James, determined to distract him from the man’s dark corners, tried harder.  
He brought his hands up to hold his head in and pressed their chests together. While he was busy enticing his mouth, James brought a hand down and began to caress Silva’s growing member. The unexpected contact brought Silva out of his thoughts quickly as he groaned into the other man’s mouth. As much as Silva knew James was trying to comfort him, he just couldn’t let the infamous 007 win this easily. Silva quickly became an active participant in James’ administrations and pulled both of them into a standing position, getting as close together as they could. Silva whirled James around so that he was standing in front of the bed and pushed him down.  
“Seems I’ve succeeded in distracting you.” James said with a smile as Silva began to crawl on top of him.   
“Well, don’t be fooled in thinking that you will be succeeding in much of anything else.” Silva said haughtily as he bent down to start kissing James’s near perfect chest.   
“You think you have won so easily.” James stated as he tried to maintain his control while the older man ravaged him. “I seem to recall you being interested in finding out who would end up on top.” James grabbed the other man and rolled the pair over on the bed. “And since you are more used to this than I am, I see no reason to change my usual position.” He brought his leg in between Silva’s and began to rub against his erection.   
“Who says I prefer this position?” Silva said in between gasps.   
“I wasn’t asking if you preferred it or not.”  
Silva wasn’t in the mood to argue much further. They both knew that there was no going back at this point but Silva didn’t want to test it. Instead he leaned up a brought James down into a crushing kiss. When they broke for air, Silva whispered into James’ ear,  
“Do you have any lubricant? Or are we going to fool around like secondary school children all night?”  
James growled at the challenge presented. A challenge he did not have any trouble accepting as long as he didn’t stop to analyze it. But then again, when did he ever stop to analyze anything during sex? He broke away from the other man as he reached over to the nightstand and retrieved his lube of choice, and pulled himself up further to prepare himself, then Silva. Just when he was lowering his fingers to Silva, he was stopped by a strong hand.  
“No.”  
“No?” James asked raising an eyebrow.  
“Just do it.” Silva released James’ hand and held on to his hips, bracing himself.  
James threw him one last glance, to give him a moment to change his mind. A quick nod from the panting man was all he needed, and with one quick thrust, he pushed himself in.  
James didn’t realize just how strong of hands Silva had until he began a steady rhythm. His grip tightened suddenly and he bit his lip, but other than his heavy breathing, Silva didn’t make a sound. James, on the other hand, was groaning and moaning to save his soul. After a minute or so of slow motions, Silva’s grip loosened and James picked up the pace.  
Silva wrapped his arms around James and brought him down to illicit more contact. When he started to coo in James’ ear, he nearly went over the edge but he contained himself. James wanted this to last as long as possible. Of course, that was easier said than done. The motions that the entangled pair found themselves in was far more intense than James had previously thought. Not just physically, but mentally. The level of kinship and shared experiences between the two men somehow brought the whole affair past animalistic urge and gave it more meaning. There was something here, just as he suspected the night before. He just couldn’t peg it, but as he reached his climax, the mysterious feeling caused him to say something a little odd.  
“God…yes!....Tiago!”  
James shuddered through his orgasm as Silva froze at the mention of his name. Yes, he had used it before, that wasn’t just something his mind made up. James brought his mouth close to Silva’s ear and whispered, “It’s alright, Tiago, just let go.”  
Silva all but choked back a sob at James’ words and the whole situation. James held him close as he finally did let himself go, his warm seed spilling between the two of them. When the aftershocks died away, James pulled himself off of the other man and led him to the shower where he cleaned both of them off. Silva had slipped back into his semi-catatonic state, but James took no offense. He knew that while he could never be brought back fully to the man he once was, time and care could do nothing but help. James brought him back to the bed and let him have his space on his side.   
He was roused out of his post-coital snooze about an hour later.  
“What are we going to do now, my dear James?”  
“I had an idea, something along the lines of us two rats eating the world.”  
“Really?” Silva raised himself up to look quizzically at James’ back.   
“Yes, though not as nefarious as you would prefer I’m sure.” James’ usual cocky tone muffled by the pillow he had his head buried in.   
“I’m not sure what you are getting at.”  
“Well, when I was growing up, I always heard stories about Robin Hood…”  
“Ah…” Silva smiled to himself as he started get the idea.  
“I always did prefer following my own orders.”   
“But where should we go? I’m not too keen on staying here for very much longer. And I’m sure it will not be a ‘safe’ house for very much longer either. “  
“I had an idea about that as well...” James still had the twinge of sleep in his voice, but Silva was itching to get more information.  
“Yes?”  
“You wouldn’t be the current owner of your Grandmother’s island, would you?”  
Silva smiled to himself again. It was one of the first things he purchased after he struck it rich going rogue. Instead of answering, Tiago just turned and wrapped his arms around his new partner in crime. Slowly, they both drifted off to sleep.


	4. Epilogue- Changed Nature

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Epilogue

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> No, don't let the title fool you. Bond isn't a "bad guy" now, just working for himself. The whole Changed Nature just worked as a title and with the theme I had running in the chapters. Anyway, this was the first slash I ever wrote so I hope all who reads it, enjoys it

Epilogue- Changed Nature

It was two weeks after the incident, and things were finally beginning to slide back into a norm at MI6. After M was shot, things moved quick and dirty. Mallory was appointed the new M, nationwide panic had to be quelled, and a secret manhunt had to be put in motion. Officially, MI6 was operating under the assumption that 007 had been taken hostage while attempting to subdue Silva, and they were expecting contact from the deranged man daily. They also had to stay on guard for any more threats to their security. Of course all of MI6 knew Bond to not be very cooperative under torture, but protocol was protocol. As the days pressed on and nothing came forward, the nagging feeling at the back of Mallory’s head got more and more insistent. He had his suspicions right from 007’s disappearance, but did not think on them. After all, Bond was the senior field agent at MI6, smart, if not all that subordinate, but loyal until the end. Mallory decided to keep his uneasiness to himself until it could be proven.   
Yes, things were settling down at MI6 and getting quiet. A little too quiet for Mallory’s liking. A mad man was on the loose, England’s favored agent was MIA, and who knows what stolen information the world had access to with Silva roaming free and holding a grudge. All of this going on, and….nothing. Nothing besides the usual espionage.   
On the fifteenth day after the incident, Mallory walked into his office to find a thick envelope waiting in his in box with no address or identifiable marks except for a label reading: “For His eyes only.”  
Inside was a hard drive, two printed letters, and a short note. Mallory unfolded the letter to see a picture of Bond’s identification picture next to a short obituary. The second letter was also an obituary, only this one was for Raoul Silva aka Tiago Rodriguez. The note read:  
I trust you will do me the courtesy of passing the news of our deaths along to the right people. I promise you that if I die, I will follow your advice and stay dead. I can also assure you that HE is well under close observation. Enclosed is the hard drive with all of the missing information. It is better not to inquire past that, but know that it is comprehensive, complete, and singular in its existence. If I may ask for your non-interference, I have work to do, nothing so bold in the future but Little John wanted the attention just this once.   
-B.  
Mallory suddenly recalled a report he had heard on his way to work. It was something about a major corporation suddenly out a vast sum of money. The report had made him laugh as the night before, there had been news of an anonymous organization donating that exact amount of money to an African based charity that built schools.  
As much as he knew what he should have done with the packet and the information contained therein, Mallory decided to go with his gut feeling. He wasn’t too thrilled about it, but his stomach hadn’t been wrong yet. The government desk jockey in him was fighting every urge to give into the request, but the former soldier tentatively understood. So at the end of the day, the manhunt for the agent and the cyber-terrorist was called off. It was reported through an anonymous source, that 007 James Bond, and former Agent Raoul Silva had died in an auto accident after the kid-knapping of the double-0. Yes the report had holes big enough to fit a small country through, but it was on record and no one was about to go against M’s order, especially since nothing had been going on lately to provide evidence to the contrary. Internally, M looked the other way and gave Bond this request, just this once.


End file.
